


Smitten

by phantomhivemast3r



Series: Ineffable Fics [4]
Category: Good Omens (TV), Good Omens - Neil Gaiman & Terry Pratchett
Genre: F/F, Fluff, Ineffable Wives, and they are very much in love, post-Armagedidn't, they've been married for years
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-03-29
Updated: 2020-03-29
Packaged: 2021-02-28 19:28:33
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,072
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23382325
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/phantomhivemast3r/pseuds/phantomhivemast3r
Summary: Aziraphale wants to go to a play, but Crowley is dragging her feet when getting ready. This still doesn't stop them from being absolutely smitten with each other.
Relationships: Aziraphale/Crowley (Good Omens)
Series: Ineffable Fics [4]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1510436
Comments: 2
Kudos: 46





	Smitten

** Smitten **

"My dear, if you don't hurry up, we're going to be _late,"_ Aziraphale said, stressing the last word in the vain hope that her partner would be prompted to move a little faster.

"We'll be _fine,_ Angel!" Crowley responded, speaking loudly to be heard over the running water. Aziraphale pursed her lips and shot a glare through the open bathroom door, where the demon's silhouette could be seen through the extravagant, opaque glass walls of the shower.

"I really don't know why you insist on bathing the human way," Aziraphale huffed, leaning against the doorframe impatiently. "We can miracle ourselves clean if we need to; it saves so much time."

"Yeah, but you miss out on the _experience,"_ Crowley answered, and Aziraphale could hear the grin in her voice. "A shower is the best place for contemplating the mysteries of the universe, you know. Or, well, they are when you don't have someone chattering away at you from the outside."

Aziraphale made an offended noise. "Oh, _I'm sorry._ I could go to the play on my own and leave you to your _contemplation,_ if you'd like, dear."

"Aw, you know I'm joking around, Angel." Crowley opened the door just enough to stick her head out, hair sopping wet and dripping all over the tiled floor, to shoot the angel a playful smile. Aziraphale couldn't help but smile a bit in return, though she crossed her arms to show that she was, in fact, still annoyed.

"...You could join me, you know," Crowley continued, wiggling her eyebrows. "It's roomy enough for two in here." Aziraphale rolled her eyes, pointedly ignoring the slight blush creeping up her cheeks.

"While I appreciate the offer, love, that will _not_ help us make it to the theater before the show opens," the angel responded. Crowley let out a resigned sigh and retreated back into the shower. From the vague outline Aziraphale could see, she noted that the demon was now washing her hair. The angel gave a small sigh of relief- hair washing was always the last step in Crowley's bathing routine.

Sure enough, a few minutes later (and with a bit more prompting), the demon finally emerged back into the world. The water had been so hot that the steam trapped within the glass box shrouded Crowley just long enough for her to wrap a plush, black towel around her torso before anything was revealed. Aziraphale tried not to stare as the steam cleared, not needing any further distraction; Crowley had made it clear that she didn't want to see this show tonight, and though the demon eventually bended to her angel's wishes 99% of the time, there _had_ been moments where Aziraphale was swayed to change plans and stay in with Crowley instead. While Aziraphale certainly never regretted those nights, she did very much want to see this play and wasn't going to let the demon tempt her into something else.

"Ah, that was _sssso_ relaxing," Crowley drawled, languidly stretching her arms above her head.

"I'm glad," Aziraphale said, turning her back to Crowley and taking a few steps into the bedroom, no longer blocking the doorway. "Now, if you hurry and get changed- or better yet, miracle yourself dressed- we can still make it with a few minutes to spare."

"Yes, yes, alright," Crowley responded. Before the angel could blink, she felt the demon sidle right up behind her, lean arms sliding over her shoulders to hang loosely in front of her. "But, Angel, there's something I'd very much like to do firssst."

Aziraphale gulped, feeling the weight of the demon on her shoulders and working herself up to resist whatever temptation was in store. As she readied a retort on the tip of her tongue, Crowley leaned down so that her mouth was right next to Aziraphale's ear and let out a low chuckle. Then, without warning, the demon pressed her sopping wet hair against Aziraphale's cheek and nuzzled, earning a shriek from the angel at the sudden cold. Aziraphale struggled to get free for a few seconds before Crowley released her, cackling as the angel wiped the dampness from her face with her jacket sleeve.

 _“Crowley!”_ Aziraphale pouted, snatching at the hand towel Crowley miracled from nowhere and using it to wipe away the rest of the water. “Oh, you… you _demon!”_

Crowley responded with another laugh as Aziraphale shoved the now-damp towel back at her. “Couldn’t resist, Angel; you’re so adorable.”

Aziraphale huffed and snapped her fingers, and Crowley’s hair was suddenly dry, red curls pooling around her face like an ironic halo of fire. Crowley grasped a piece of hair between two fingers and cocked an eyebrow at Aziraphale.

“I thought you were going to cut back on the ‘frivolous’ miracles,” she said, and Aziraphale merely shrugged.

“It’s not frivolous if we’re late,” the angel responded curtly, then snapped again and gestured to the pile of clothes now laid out on the bed. “Now _please_ get dressed, my dear.”

“Alright, alright, you win,” Crowley relented with a grin, as though there had actually been a possibility she would go against her angel’s desire to see the play that night. Aziraphale turned for modesty's sake as Crowley slipped into the black dress and matching black heels (with signature red soles, of course). Crowley gave a cursory glance at the golden band wrapped around the finger of her left hand, making sure it had stayed miraculously dry during her shower. The ring knew better than to let even a drop of water or speck of dirt mar its pristine surface, especially because Crowley had absolutely refused to take it off from the moment it was securely placed on her hand a few years ago.

Satisfied with her appearance, the demon cleared her throat. "Well? How do I look?"

Aziraphale turned back around, a smile as bright as the sun lighting up her face. "Beautiful as always, darling."

"Flatterer," Crowley said with a roll of her eyes, proffering a bent elbow towards the angel.

"Temptress," Aziraphale responded, and Crowley winked as the angel slipped her arm through hers, the glint of her matching ring catching in the dim fairy lights strung about the bedroom. Aziraphale let out a small, elated chuckle and Crowley couldn't help but mirror her happy expression as they headed to the car. 

Neither of them could wipe the smiles off their faces for the rest of the evening.


End file.
